Another Gilmore Girl
by AWakeingDream
Summary: Almost two years after Lorelai had Rory, not long after she left the Gilmore Mansion, Lorelai had another affair with Christopher, and the result was a second daughter, this one named Susanna. Her presence mixes up the story you know, altering relationships and events. *The Story is better than the description, I promise.*


_**Author's Note: About half, maybe a little more, of this chapter has been posted in the past, but for some reason I posted it incomplete. For tv series, I like to post one episode as one chapter, so this is the complete first episode of my Gilmore Girls fanfiction. The original posting has been deleted. Now, please enjoy!**_

* * *

 _ **Season 1 Episode 1: Pilot**_

"Rory, come on, Mom's waiting," I sigh impatiently, standing in the hallway of our high school, waiting for my sister to finish digging around in her locker.

"I can't find my Macy Gray CD!" Rory sighs. "Did you take it?"

"I don't even remember who Macy Gracy is. Come on, you've been in the locker for almost fifteen minutes. If you haven't found it yet, I seriously doubt it's in there. Mom probably has it. Can we go now? I need cocoa."

Rory sighs and closes her locker, "Fine. I need coffee anyway." And finally the two of us leave Stars Hollow High.

"It's freezing out here," I huff, blowing onto my ice cold hands, desperately trying to warm them up.

"You'd be less cold if you'd remembered your gloves," Rory points out as she opens the door to Luke's. I just make a face as I duck past her and hurry inside, her right behind me. We both sit down at a table Mom's already claimed.

"Hi, it's freezing," I repeat.

"Aw, where are your gloves?" my mom asks.

"She forgot them at home," Rory informs her.

"I didn't forget them," I say defensively before adding, "I lost them."

"Aha," our mom nods. "Well what do you want? Coffee, tea, hot cocoa?"

"Lip gloss," Rory says.

"That wouldn't taste very good," I shake my head. "I'd rather have hot cocoa."

"Coming up," Mom pulls her giant purse out from under the table, setting it in her lap so she can dig through it. "I have vanilla, chocolate, strawberry and toasted marshmallow."

"Anything in there not resembling a breakfast cereal?" Rory asks.

"Yes," Mom pulls a smaller bag out of her big one. "It has no smell, but it changes colors with your mood." She set it down on the table in front of my almost-16 year old sister.

"God, RuPaul doesn't need this much makeup," Rory grumbles.

"Wow, you're crabby," Mom notices.

"I'm sorry. I lost my Macy Gracy CD and I need caffeine."

"Oh, I have your CD," Mom pulls the CD out of her big purse.

"Told you," I said simply.

"Thief," Rory takes the CD.

"Sorry, and I will get you some coffee."

"And cocoa!" I add.

"And cocoa," she agrees, taking both of the mugs from in front of us and going up to the counter.

"Luke's so in love with Mom," I say, watching Luke and Mom talk. I couldn't really hear them from this far away though. It didn't matter though, I can see the way Luke looks at Mom. The way he _has_ looked at her for practically as long as I can remember.

"Shut up, he is not," Rory denied. Rory and Mom are exactly alike. Including that they're both oblivious to how in love Luke is.

Before I can say anything else, a random guy comes over.

"You girls live around here?" he asks.

"Uh, yeah," Rory glances at me. I practically shrink in on myself, uncomfortable around strangers. Especially creepy grown men who are trying to flirt with high school students. I'm barely even a high school student, this is my freshman year.

"Ever been to Hartford?" the man asks.

Rory nods, "A few times."

The man nods now, "Yeah, that's where I'm headed. Thought I'd stop in here for a cup of coffee on the way."

"Oh, yeah, they have good coffee here," Rory nods.

"Oh yeah? I've never been through here before."

Just then, Mom comes over. "Oh, you have too."

"Oh, hi," the man looks at Mom as if he knows her. Or at least has seen her before.

"Oh, hi," Mom echoed. "You really like my table, don't you?"

"I was just, uh…" the man starts.

"Getting to know my daughters," Mom finishes before he can.

"Your…" he looks back at me and Rory, seeming slightly confused and panicked.

"Are you our new daddy?" Rory smiles innocently. I can't help but let out a laugh.

"Wow." He turns back to Mom. "You do not look old enough to have daughters." At her skeptical look, he adds, "No, I mean it. And you," he turns to me and Rory again. "You do not look like daughters."

I just blink in confusing, not understanding what that was supposed to mean.

"That's possibly very sweet of you," Mom says. "Thanks."

"So…daughters. You know, I am travelling with some friends."

"They're sixteen and fourteen," Mom cuts in.

"Bye," and just like that, he's gone, going back to his friends at the counter.

"Drive safe," Mom smiles, sitting down.

"Susanna, come on, I want to go to the Inn before school!" Rory calls up the stairs, as I sit at my desk in my room, writing furiously fast, my handwriting illegible to anyone besides me because of it.

"Almost done!" I call back without stopping.

"You're _always_ almost done!" Rory yells back, meaning that I always _say_ I'm almost done, and yet I never seem to actually be done. Which is true.

"Five more minutes!"

"Fine!"

And five minutes later, I force myself to stop, close my notebook, and stuff it into my backpack. At the bottom of the staircase, Rory's waiting for me with poptarts, handing them to me after I put my shoes on, and the two of us leave the house. We go to the inn where our mom works first, and as we pass the Independence Inn sign, I tap it like I always do. Rory shakes her head at me, amused, but says nothing as we hop up the porch steps and go into the inn.

"Talk to me about room four. What was wrong with it?" Mom's saying into the phone as we go over to her. Rory kisses her hello, and then I do, and then she returns to her phone conversation while Rory goes behind the desk and starts rummaging.. "Uh huh. I thought you replaced that already. … Well, because you told me you did and I never forget anything, so this one's on you, right? … Pleasure doing business with you," she hangs up the phone with a satisfied and almost triumphant look, while Michel's watching Rory with a distasteful look.

"What is your offspring doing?" Michel asks Mom.

"I need stamps," Rory answers, pulling a book of them out. "Can I have these?"

"No," Michel says.

"Take them," Mom says, ignoring Michel. She gestures to the giant sweater that Rory's wearing. "What's with the muumuu?"

"Stop," Rory grabs an envelope too.

"No, I'm just saying, you couldn't find one made of metal in case anyone has X-ray eyes?" Mom asks. I almost laugh.

"And now we say goodbye," Rory declares, coming back around to the front of the desk.

"Oh, hey, have Michel look at your French paper before you go," Mom suggests.

"Excuse me?" Michel doesn't even look up from whatever he's doing.

"That'd be great," Rory smiles, walking around me so that she can stand right across the desk from Michel.

"No."

"Come on, Michel. I'll tell all the ladies what a stud you are."

"Hm. I believe that memo has already been sent," Michel still doesn't look up.

"Are you sure you're not gay?" I ask.

"Susanna, honey, no," Lorelei shakes her head, signaling that that's one of those things I'm supposed to not say aloud. I just shrug, too used to this happening to be bothered. But really, something about Michel just always makes me think he'll end up with a man someday, not a woman. It's not even necessarily how he dresses or how he acts. He acts like a regular surly Frenchman and he dresses impeccably, but normal. He doesn't even wear bright colors, really. I don't think I've ever even seen him wearing anything other than a finely tailored suit.

Mom turns to Michel and starts badly imitating a French accent, "Oh please, Michel. Pretty please with sugar on top. I will stop talking like this.

"Leave it," Michel finally relents, as all people do when facing off against my mom. "I'll look at it if I get a chance."

"It's due tomorrow," Rory says, setting the paper on the desk. "And pay special attention to the grammar."

Rory and I leave, heading towards town square and the school. On the way there, we meet up with Lane, Rory's best friend, outside her house, which is also an antiques shop.

"Hey guys," Lane smiles when she comes out to us.

"Hi, Lane," Rory greets, while I just wave. I almost laugh at the shirt Lane's wearing, but it's more because of the irony of it than anything. Lane's parents are extremely religious and Lane pretends that she is too. But as soon as we round a corner and are out of sight of her house, she pulls a Woodstock '99 shirt out of her backpack, hands her backpack and jean jacket to Rory, and pulls it on over the Christian-themed shirt she left the house in.

"When are you going to let your parents know that you listen to the evil rock music? You're an American teenager, for God's sake."

"That doesn't stop the rest of the bible thumpers," I pointed out. Lane was Korean, but that had nothing to do with her family's Christianity obsession.

"Rory, if my parents still get upset over the obscene portion size of American food, I seriously doubt I'm gonna make any inroads with Eminem."

One of the few music names I actually knew who they were. "Why would you want to? He has no real music skill."

"Rory, reign in your sister. I cannot have this argument again!" Lane declares. Lane's passionate about music, even more so than my mom and Rory are. It's her life. Some day she wants to join a rock band. Or maybe start one. I don't think she's too picky. But the fact that I don't like very much music at all, especially everything that's considered "cool," drives all of them crazy.

"Shutting up now," I say, saving my sister having to say anything. Feeling dejected, I don't say anything else for the rest of the walk to school. I just listen to Rory and Lane talk about how Lane has to go to the hayride with the son of a business associate that her parents set her up with.

When we get to school, we all part ways, and I drag myself through yet another miserable day of school, understanding little and interested in even less. After school, Rory and Lane went to Lane's house and I went back to the Inn, where I worked sometimes, helping out for extra money, which I saved in a shoebox under my bed.

The next day I go to the house first, and then go to the Inn, taking Mom the mail from the house when I do.

"Oh my god!" Mom burst out suddenly as she was going through the mail. I looked at her, confused. "Come here!" she told me, dropping most of the mail and grabbing a shopping bag from under the desk. She darted away, and I dropped what I was doing, hurrying to follow her. She went to the kitchen, where Sookie, the chef and her best friend, was cooking. "Sookie!"

Sookie spins around as I follow mom in, hitting one of the other chefs in the face with a skillet. "Oh my god!" I jumped as he dropped to the ground. But he's still alive, so Mom and Sookie pay little attention.

"It's here! It happened! She did it!" Mom grins.

"Okay, I'm gonna need a little bit longer sentences," Sookie says. But I get it immediately.

"She did it!" I cheer, jumping up and down.

"Who did what?!" Sookie demands, wanting to be excited but completely clueless.

"Chilton!" I burst out.

"Rory got in," Lorelei tells her.

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!" Sookie cheers and claps, jumping up and down a little bit.

"I know! Look," Mom pulls out a letter and I scoot closer to her to read from beside her as she reads the letter aloud. "'Dear Ms. Gilmore, We are happy to inform you that we have a vacancy at Chilton Preparatory starting immediately. Due to your daughter's excellent credentials and your enthusiastic pursuit of her enrollment,' I offered to do the principal to get her in."

"Mom!" I called, horrified and grossed out.

"It's a joke, honey," she says to me before continuing to read the letter. "'We would be happy to accept her as soon as the first semester's tuition has been received."

"This is very exciting!" Sookie cheers, and her and Mom giggle and hug.

Mom frowns a little bit, pulling away, "Is something burning?"

"My bangs, earlier," Sookie waves her hand dismissively. "Go on, go on, go on."

"This is it!" Lorelei says excitedly. "She can finally go to Harvard like she's always wanted and get the education that I never got and get to do all the things that I never got to do and then I can resent her for it and we can finally have a normal mother-daughter relationship."

"Oh, good." Sookie and Mom giggle again, and Rory walks in. While they tell Rory the good news though, I sneak out of the kitchen, going back to the front desk, where Michel currently is.

"Hey," Rory finds me a little bit later. "So I guess you heard the news."

I nod, "I was here when Mom opened the letter."

"You okay with this?" she asks.

"Yeah," I say, as if the answer's obvious. "You know I don't like school anyway. I definitely wouldn't like an ivy-league level high school."

"Yeah," Rory smiles, assured, because she knows I'm right. But still, I can't help but wonder if Mom's disappointed in me, in that I'm not smart like Rory is, in that I'll most likely have a life closer to the one that Mom's had. Dropped out of high school, never went to college, had to work a menial job most of mine and Rory's lives. She runs the Inn now, but when she first moved to Stars Hollow with little baby Rory, she became a maid first.

The next day, I come home before Rory, as I usually do, and I catch Mom on the phone. Her back is to me and I hide behind a corner, catching on right away that this is not a conversation that she'll want me or Rory to hear. But I hear it anyway, because I usually do.

"I'm holding for Miss Bell. I've been trying to get a hold of her all day. … Lorelai Gilmore. … Hi! Oh, hi, hi. Yeah, uh, my daughter Rory has just been accepted, yay. … Thank you, and um, I got the invoice for your enrollment fee." I have to keep adjusting my position as Mom walks around the first floor of the house while she talks. "Wow, that is a lot of zeros behind that five. .. Uh huh. Okay, well, I guess what I'm wondering is if you couldn't take, say, part of it now, just to get her going? … Well, but she's supposed to start Monday. It just doesn't give me a lot of time to pull a bank job. … Well, never mind, I was just kidding. … No, a bank job is robbing a bank, but… Uh huh. Oh no. No, no, no. I don't want you to give up her space. I'll just…I'll have to figure it out. …Okay. No, thank you. It's been a real treat talking to you. … Yeah. Bye-bye."

When Mom turns around, she sees me. "Oh, hey, kid."

"Hi." I feel awkward, I don't know what to do. But that's normal for me.

"How much of that did you hear?"

"All of it," I admit. "How are we going to get the money?" I ask.

"I don't know," she admits this time.

"What about my grandparents?" I suggest. I've never met them, but I know they're extremely rich.

Mom shakes her head though, "It's not an option."

I just nod. "You'll figure it out though," I say certainly. Mom always figures something out. I turn and go up the stairs and to my room.

Later that night, Sookie comes over and I come down stairs. Rory tries on her Chilton skirt while I write in my notebook.

"I can't believe tomorrow's my last day at Stars Hollow High," Rory says as she, Mom and Sookie come inside.

"I know," Mom says.

"Today, I was so excited, I dressed for gym," Rory tells her.

"You're kidding!" Mom gasps.

"She played volleyball," I add.

"With other people?" Mom looks between me and Rory, shocked. I nod, almost grinning. The Gilmore Girls were, most decidedly, _not_ sports people. Which seemed a little odd to me, because we drank enough coffee for twenty sports people each.

"And I learned that all this time I was avoiding group sports?" Rory starts.

"Yeah?"

"Was very smart."

"She was _terrible_ ," I add. Gym classes at Stars Hollow High were mixed grades, so Rory and I had one class in common.

"Well, yeah, you got that from me," Mom says as she pins Rory's new blue pleaded skirt.

"Where's your pate?" Sookie asks, coming out of the kitchen.

"At Zsa Zsa Gabor's house," Mom says. She doesn't even know what pate is.

"Right," Sookie nods. "I'm going to the store because you have nothing. You feel like duck?"

"Ooh, if it's made with chicken, absolutely."

"I'll be back."

"Bye."

"Get chocolate ice cream!" I call as Sookie leaves.

"Alright, this will give you an idea. Go see how you like it," Mom says to Rory.

"Okay! I love being a private school girl," Rory smiles as she heads into her bedroom. She has a full length mirror in there that she'll be able to see her skirt in. I look up from my notebook, watching Mom, because she's suddenly gotten very quiet. She's looking at photos on the mantle. I follow her gaze, even though I already know what the photos are of. One in particular I know she's looking at. It's a photo of Mom when she was a little kid, standing in front of this huge mansion – my grandparents' house. Just from her look, I know that she's going to do it. She's going to go talk to her parents, who I'm pretty sure she hasn't talked to since before I was born…do they even know I exist?

She'll figure it out. She always does. And this time, that means biting back her pride and asking her parents for money.

The next day, Rory cleans out her locker. Lane holds the box while Rory loads stuff into it, telling Lane all about how great Chilton's going to be. "And we get to wear uniforms. No more having people check you out to see what jeans you're wearing 'cause everyone's dressed alike in boring clothes and just there to learn."

"So now _two_ Gilmore girls will be wearing the same exact outfit every day," Lane commented. I glanced down at my own clothes. Every day I wear the same outfit. Jeans, black tee-shirt and olive green jacket. Right down to the sneakers I wore every day.

"I feel more comfortable in this outfit," I mutter, probably too quiet for either of them to hear. Rory closes her locker and takes the box from Lane.

"So I told my mom you're changing schools," Lane says as the three of us walk down the hallway.

"Was she thrilled?" Rory asks.

"The party's on Friday. I gotta go. I have to have a pre-hayride cup of tea with a future doctor. How do I look? Korean?"

"Spitting image."

"Good. Bye."

"Bye."  
"Good luck," I add. Lane waves over her shoulder at us as she leaves, and Rory and I continue walking.

"Oh!" I jump back as a book and an avalanche of papers fall from the top of Rory's overflowing box. "I knew we should have brought two boxes." I comment as she bends down to pick the stuff up.

"Susanna, you have to learn to say those kinds of things aloud. They're more helpful that way," Rory says.

"Sorry…"

Rory stands up again, having gotten all of her stuff back into the box, hopefully more steadily this time, and almost runs right into a tall boy as she turns.

"God! You're like Ruth Gordon, just standing there with a tannis root. Make a noise." Then she turns to me, "Why didn't you warn me?" I just shrug.

"Rosemary's Baby," the boy says. Rory looks at him again, surprised.

"Yeah."

"Well, that's a great movie," he explains in response to her surprise. "You've got good taste." There's a beat of silence that passes between the three of us before he fills it, glancing at her box. "Are you moving?"

"No, just my books are," she tells him.

"My family just moved here from Chicago," he says. I wrack my brain, trying to think about all I know about Chicago. What I know about Chicago is pretty well summed up in Rory's response though.

"Chicago. Windy. Oprah," She says lamely.

"Yeah," the boys seems amused. "Yeah, that's the place. I'm Dean."

"Hi," Rory says. Then, after a second, she realizes she hasn't introduced herself. "Oh, Rory. Me. That's…that's me. Oh, and my sister. Susanna. She's autistic." I cover my face in shame. I don't care about people knowing I'm autistic, that's not what I'm ashamed of. I'm ashamed that my older sister is acting more socially awkward than even _I_ do. At least I can always figure out how to put sentences together.

"Oh yeah? I have a sister. She's eight. Her name's Clara."

Inexplicably, I wanted to ask if she had brown hair too. But I didn't. Besides, he's focusing all his attention on Rory again. "Rory," he repeats her name.

"Well, Lorelai technically," Rory says.

"Lorelai," he repeats again. "I like that."

"It's my mother's name too. She named me after herself. She was lying in the hospital thinking about how men name boys after themselves all the time, you know, so why couldn't women? She says her feminism just kind of took over. Though personally I think a lot of Demerol also went into that decision. I never talk this much."

Dean doesn't seem to mind though. He's more amused than anything. "Well, I better go."

"Oh, sure."

"I have to go look for a job," he explains, even though nobody asked.

"Okay, good."

"Bye, Susanna," he says to me. I just wave in return. He walks past Rory and starts to leave.

"You should check with Miss Patty," Rory says, turning to watch him go. He stops and turns back around.

"What?"

"About the job. You should check with Miss Patty. She teaches dance. She was actually on Broadway once."

"I don't really dance much…"

I cover my face and shake my head in shame again. Honestly, Rory!

"No, no, she just kind of knows everything that's going on in town. She'll know if someone's looking," Rory explains.

"Oh, great. Uh, thanks. Hey, what are you doing now?"

"Nothing…much."

"Well maybe you could show me where this Miss Patty's place is."

"Yeah, I guess so. I don't really have anything important to…let's go," she follows him out of the school, and I just stand where I am, not sure if I'm welcome to come along or not. I must not be, because neither of them bother to call me. So, sighing, I leave the school separately and instead go to Luke's.

"What's that look for?" Luke asks as I sit at the counter, dropping my backpack to the floor near my feet.

"Rory ran off with a boy she likes and they left me behind," I tell him as he pours me a cup of hot chocolate. "It's ready that fast?"

"Saw you coming. Rory likes a boy?"

I nod. Luke brings me a donut too, which I always have when I come here after school. "We just met him. Dean. He just moved here from Chicago. Rory went with him to Miss Patty's. He's going to ask about a job."

"And you're sure he likes her?" he asks. I just look at him. "Right, stupid question. You're always sure." And I'm always right. At least I always have been so far. Luke walks away from me, going to work.

After I eat my donut, I move to a table to do my homework. Eventually, Mom and Rory show up to have dinner.

"Hey, there you are," Mom says when she sees me. She kisses the top of my head before sitting down at the table I've claimed. I gather up my school stuff and put it all back in my backpack to make room for her and Rory. It was hopelessly confusing anyway. "So, you were late getting home tonight," Mom says to Rory.

"Yeah, I went to the library," Rory lied, with a sharp look at me. I'd gotten it enough times, and blundered it enough times, to know by now that the look means not to say anything.

"Oh. Oh, I forgot to tell you, we're having dinner with your grandparents tomorrow night."

"We are?"

"Mmhmm."

"Did one of them die?"

"No, they're both still alive. And healthy," Mom adds the last part, probably because we both know that Rory's next question would be if one of them is dying then.

Luke brings over all of our dinners then. "Red meat can kill you. Enjoy." Then he leaves.

"So, I finished hemming your skirt today," Mom tells Rory. Rory doesn't say anything. "A grunt of acknowledgement might be nice."

"I don't understand why we're going to dinner tomorrow night," Rory says, looking at Mom. "I mean, what if I had plans? You didn't even ask me."

"Well, if you had plans, I would have known."

"How?"

"Well, you would have told me."

"I don't tell you everything. I have my own things."

"But you always tell us when you have plans," I point out.

"Not always," Rory snaps.

"Hey, don't snap at your sister just because you're mad at something none of us even know," Mom says. "I have dibs on being the bitch tonight."

"Just tonight?"

My jaw drops a little in surprise at Rory's comment, but I don't say anything.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Mom asks.

"I'm not sure I want to go to Chilton."

"What?"

"The timing is just really bad."

"Rory, you're being ridiculous," I say.

"I am not. And the bus ride to and from Hartford, it's like thirty minutes each way."

"I can't believe what I'm hearing," Mom says.

"Neither can I," I add, popping a French fry into my mouth.

"Plus, I don't think we should be spending that money right now. I mean, I know Chilton's got to be costing you a lot."

"In a weird way," I almost laughed at myself.

"Oh you have no idea," Mom shakes her head.

"All your money should be going towards buying an inn with Sookie," Rory says. It's been Mom and Sookie's dream to own an inn together for years.

"What about college? What about Harvard?" Mom asks.

"We don't know that I can't get into Harvard if I stay where I am."

"Okay, enough. Enough of the crazy talk, okay? I appreciate your concern, but I have this covered."

"I still don't want to go."

"Why?"

"Because I don't."

I want so badly to blurt it out, to tell Mom why Rory's acting like this, but Rory will hate me if I do, so I just stuff my face with my cheeseburger.

"I have to get out of here," Mom says, standing up, and starts to leave.

"We have to pay first," Rory points out. Mom and Rory leave, but I stay at the diner. I put down my burger back onto my plate and sigh. I hate fighting. After a minute, Luke comes over and sets down a chocolate milk shake, then walks away without a word. I push the burger plate aside and pull the chocolate shake closer. It's my comfort food, I always get one when I'm bothered.

"Are you and Mom still fighting?" I ask Rory as we leave school the next day.

Rory shrugs and doesn't answer the question. Instead, she says. "Did you get a note to meet her at the Inn?"

"Mom doesn't leave me notes, I have a schedule," I remind her. I work best on a schedule. It's not exact, it doesn't dictate every moment of every day, but it doesn't need to. Through a lot of process of elimination, we've discovered that I just need a basic outline to follow, so I can always know basically what's supposed to happen and where I'm supposed to be, but still have room in case something comes up, so it doesn't interfere with my schedule and mess me up.

"Right. Well she left a me a note to meet her at the Inn."

"Are you going to be mad at her there too?" I ask. "How long did you guys fight last night?"

Rory's answer is simply, "It's a good thing you didn't come home until late." I sigh. "Where were you anyway?"

"Luke's. You two never fight. Can't you just tell her about Dean?"

"No."

"Why not? It would be less of a fight if you tell her about Dean and you two talk about it instead of you just throwing a fit because you don't want to go to a different school than this boy you just met."

"I didn't just throw a fit," Rory says defensively.

"Yes, you did, and you know it."

When we get to the Inn, though, she's not any better.

"Hey, no muumuu today," Mom says, in a good mood. It's a new day, the fight doesn't matter. "You know what's weird? I kind of miss it."

"You left me a note to meet you here," Rory points out.

"Yeah, I thought you might want to work a couple hours, make a little extra cash."

"Fine."

"Aw, you're not gonna give me the Mommy Dearest treatment forever, are ya?"

"You wanted me here, I'm here. Should I do something or what?"

"Yeah, go home," Mom says, fed up with Rory's behavior. "Dinner's at seven, be ready to go."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Rory leaves, and Michel immediately comes over and sits in the chair that she just vacated.

"Ah, my chair," he says, satisfied.

"You're weird," I tell him.

"As are you," he replies, unbothered.

Dinner at my grandparents' approaches. It's a half hour drive before we pull up to the mansion. The house looks exactly the same as it does in the photo. Large, made of stone, very expensive and beautiful looking. Mom, Rory and I stand outside it, looking up at it. "I want to live here," I decide.

"Oh, trust me kid, no you don't," Mom says.

"If my grandparents are horrible, we can kick them out and just take over," I say simple.

Mom laughs, "God I love you." I smile, and Mom rings the doorbell. A woman opens the door.

"Hi, Grandma," Rory smiles pleasantly.

"Well, you're right on time," our grandmother says.

"Yeah, yeah, no traffic at all."

Grandma blinks and looks at me. "Who's this?"

"Oh, right, you never met her. Mom, this is Susanna. My other daughter." Mom says almost nervously. Nobody says anything for a minute, my grandmother just looking at me. I start getting uncomfortable, having no idea what she makes of me. Does she hate me?

"How old are you?" she finally asks me after what seems like forever.

"Fourteen…" I answer reluctantly, wishing I didn't have to say anything at all.

Another few minutes pass in complete and awkward silence. We're not even inside the house. We're still standing outside, with her standing in the open doorway.

"Emily, what on earth are you doing? Let them in, for…" an older man rounds a corner and starts over, stopping when he sees me. Here we go again.

"Richard. This is Susanna," my grandmother says. "Our other granddaughter."

"My God," is his only response.

Another minute of silence passes before Mom breaks it. "So…you gonna let us in or are we having dinner outside tonight?"

"Oh, yes, come in," my grandmother says, quickly stepping aside to let us inside.

"How old are you?" My grandfather asks me.

"She's fourteen, dad," Mom answers before I have to.

"Champagne, anyone?" My grandmother asks as we all go to the living room.

"Oh, that's fancy," Mom comments.

"Well it's not every day that I have my girls here for dinner," she says, distributing champagne to the adults and club soda to me and Rory. "A toast," she raises her glass. "To Rory entering Chilton and an exciting new phase in her life. And to Susanna. Our other granddaughter."

"Here, here," my grandfather says, raising his glass.

"Well, let's sit everyone," my grandmother says, and we all sit down. "This is just wonderful. An education is the most important thing in the world, next to family," she says, her attention on Rory.

"And pie," Mom says. A moment of silence passes before she adds, "Joke, joke."

"So, Mom, Dad, there's something you two should probably know. About Susanna."

"What is it?" Grandma asks.

"Well," Mom glances at me. "She's autistic."

"Autistic, what is that?" Grandpa asked.

"Well," Mom let out a breath, not sure how to word it. "It's a mental disability. Basically, what it means, is that she doesn't really understand communications and relationships and social cue's the way we do. It's…really hard to explain. Honestly, it's easier to just learn over time, from spending time with her and talking to her and stuff."

"Oh. Well…okay," Grandma nods. It's clear neither of them really know what to make of this. But that doesn't bother me, because most people don't. But at least, when they're aware, it separates the good people from the truly careless people. At least the ones who care will listen and try, and sometimes I can convince them to ask questions – but more often than not they won't because they think it's rude.

"This is going to work," I nod.

"She does that a lot," Rory says. "Just blurts out whatever comes to her mind. It doesn't always make sense." I stick my tongue out at her.

"Rory, how do you like the lamb?" Grandma asks.

"It's good," Rory nods. I wonder if that's true. But not enough to take a bite. My stomach's churning too much to try to eat. All I want to do is go home. Or to Luke's to have a chocolate milkshake. I think I'd even be okay sitting out in the driveway. Anywhere but here. It's just too awkward. Mom hasn't seen or spoken to grandma and grandpa since Rory was about a year old, since she left home. And even I can feel every minute of those almost fifteen years. And I think my entire existence is just making it worse.

"Too dry?"

"No, it's perfect."

"Potatoes could use a little salt, though," Mom comments.

"Excuse me?" Grandma looks at mom.

Before mom can say anything though, Rory speaks up. "So, Grandpa, how's the insurance biz?" she asks.

"Oh, people die, we pay. People crash cars, we pay. People lose a foot, we pay." Grandpa responds boredly. I almost say something, but I make sure to clamp my lips shut. If I say something, anything, it'll probably make all this so much worse.

"Well at least you have your new slogan," Rory says.

"And how are things at the motel?" Grandpa asks Mom. I wonder how he knows mom works at an inn. Or how Rory knows Grandpa's in the insurance business – I'm not even sure what that's supposed to mean.

"The inn? They're great," Mom replies.

"Lorelai's the executive manager now. Isn't that wonderful?" Grandma says. They know an awful lot…have mom and Rory been talking to them without me knowing? That can't be right…maybe mom was talking to them, and once in a while she'd say something to Rory. Or, more likely, both of us, but I was just too busy writing to listen.

"Speaking of which, Christopher called yesterday?" Grandpa says, which makes me finally look up. Christopher's my dad. He's Rory's too, even though he and mom haven't dated since she was born. He visits sometimes, though not as often as Rory and I want.

"Speaking of which? How is that a speaking of which?" Mom asks, and the shock from hearing about my dad wears off enough for me to wonder that too. I'm still trying to figure it out, staring at the corner of the wall and the ceiling across from me as I do, when grandpa answers.

"He's doing very well in California. His internet start-up goes public next month. This could mean big things for him." Then he looks at Rory, "Very talented man, your father."

"She knows," Mom says, glancing at me. I wonder if Grandma and Grandpa know that Christopher's my dad too, or if they think mom had me with someone else. They probably think mom had me with someone else. It would make the most sense. Some days even I think that must be the case, as I'm not very much more like Dad than I'm like Mom. I'm not really like anyone in my family.

"He was always a smart one, that boy," Grandpa says. "You must take after him," he tells Rory. I shrink down in my seat a little bit, staring down at my plate and blinking back tears. Maybe Christopher's _not_ my father. Grandpa's right, Rory takes after his brains, and mom's just about everything else. I…I'm not much like either of them. Maybe I'm adopted.

"Speaking of which, I'm gonna get a Coke," Mom says, standing up. "Or a knife." She goes to the kitchen.

Rory starts to get up, "I think I'm gonna go talk to her – "

"No, I'll go," Grandma says, getting up. Rory sits back down. "You stay and keep your grandfather company." Nobody's even acknowledging me. And sometimes I like that, like when being at home has somehow turned into a party and I just want to read or write, or when I'm at Luke's for a milkshake and he just deliver's the food but otherwise pretends I'm not there. But I don't have a book or my notebook, and everybody's ignoring me like I don't even matter and I just want to go home and curl up on my bed surrounded by pillows and blankets and books and notebooks and just disappear into my own little worlds.

It takes me a little bit to realize that we can hear everything Mom and Grandma are saying in the kitchen. One glance at Rory, and I know she's been listening the whole time. I glance over at Grandpa too, and I think he has too. They're both just staring at they're plates, eating a little bit.

"You did. All I heard you say was pie," Grandma's saying.

"Why would he bring up Christopher? Was that really necessary?" Mom asks.

"He likes Christopher."

"Isn't that interesting? Because, as I remember, when Christopher got me pregnant, Dad didn't like him so much."

"Oh, well, please, you were sixteen. What were we supposed to do, throw you a party? We were disappointed. The two of you had such bright futures."

"Yes, and by not getting married we got to keep those bright futures," Mom says, and I wonder if that's true. Because Mom always talks about wanting Rory to have a better life, about getting Rory that better life. Isn't that why we're here at all? If Mom's present used to be her bright future, I wonder what she'd call Rory's future. I want to ask her that later.

"When you get pregnant, you get married. A child needs a mother and a father."

"Oh, Mom," Mom sounds exasperated now. "Do you think that Christopher would have his own company right now if we'd gotten married? Do you think he would be anything at all?"

"Yes, I do. Your father would have put him in the insurance business and you'd be living a lovely life right now," Grandma says simply. I think it just sounds like being their puppets though.

"He didn't want to be in the insurance business and I am living a lovely life right now."

"That's right, far away from us."

"Oh, here we go," I can practically hear Mom's eyes rolling.

"You took that girl and completely shut us out of your life. Shut us out of your life so completely that you never even told us when you had a second child! And one that has something wrong with her no less."

"There is nothing wrong with her," Mom snaps.

"Have you taken her to doctors? Gotten her help?"

"She doesn't need help, she is fine how she is. We all are. You don't know anything about her or her condition—"

"I know she's disable. I know that you're too proud to get her the help she needs."

"Well I wasn't too proud to come here to you two begging for money for my kid's school, was I?" Mom snaps. I look at Rory, and she's already looking at me. She didn't know, but she probably knows now that I knew the whole time. Grandpa's asleep in his chair.

It seems to take endless hours, but eventually dinner finally comes to an end. It's like as soon as we're outside, we step into a completely different place. Like we're already thirty minutes away, at least. Mom sighs and leans back against the wall.

"Mom?" Rory asks after a minute.

"I'm okay," Mom says. "I just…do I look shorter? Cause I feel shorter." I look her up and down, trying to figure out if she's shorter. Can someone really shrink? I hope not. I'm already several inches shorter than Mom and Rory, I don't want to be any shorter.

"Hey, how 'bout I buy you a cup of coffee?" Rory asks, not answering mom's question.

"Oh yeah. You drive though, okay? Cause I don't think my feet will reach the pedals," she pushes away from the wall and the three of us start towards the car.

"I don't think you shrank _that_ much," I comment.

We drive home, and it seems like an endless drive. But eventually we make it home, and Mom and Rory go to Luke's. I stay home though, not having enough energy – or desire, for that matter – to go anywhere else. Even Luke's. So I just change into my pajamas and sit on my bed to read for a little bit, then write for even longer. When Mom and Rory eventually come home, they bring me back a chocolate milkshake.


End file.
